I Have No Power Over You
by ozhawk
Summary: For years Sarah has waited for Jareth to come for her. She's beginning to lose hope. Written some time ago, I found this just this week and chose to finish it as a tribute to David Bowie. Not my usual fare but I hope my readers will enjoy anyway!


**I Have No Power Over You**

 _He'd come for her when she was sixteen._

Sarah wasn't sure why she was so certain of that. But she was. She was too young, at fifteen. She couldn't be with him until she was older.

But her sixteenth birthday came and went with no owl at the window. Her other friends were there, of course; but they could not, or would not, speak of Jareth, only shaking their heads when she asked about him. Even when they'd gone, when at the stroke of midnight she gazed out into the night from the open window and whispered the words, he did not come.

"I wish the Goblin King would come and take me away."

 _He'd come for her when she was eighteen._

Sixteen was too young, of course, she'd still been a child. Hadn't really understood what it was he was asking of her. Two years had changed that, taught her more of the world, opened her eyes to what people really did behind closed doors. Not her, though. Her time in the Labyrinth had changed her in ways too subtle to be obvious, but too profound for her ever to be normal. _Fey_ , her human friends called her, and she knew they were right. She wasn't like them. Not anymore. She wasn't meant to be here. Boys admired her from a distance, but never tried to get close. Never tried to touch. Was it his influence, driving them away, or was it just that she was _different_?

Sometimes she could swear she felt him close, felt his eyes on her, his presence protecting her. But when she turned around, there was never anyone there.

Sarah refused pressing from her friends to celebrate her birthday. She went home instead, celebrated with her family – dearest Toby, who was the only one who accepted her for who she really was, now, had made her a drawing that was recognisably herself, except for the fairy wings. She hugged and kissed him, something that, at five, he was still just about young enough to tolerate. She didn't truly want to leave Toby behind. But for Jareth's sake, she wouldn't even look back when he came for her.

"Why don't you come for me?" she whispered into the pre-dawn light of the following day, her eyes stinging with tears. "I never – I never wanted to leave…"

 _He'd come for her when she was twenty-one. Wouldn't he?_

Sarah would never stop believing that he would. Because she knew now what it was that he had truly asked, when he had begged her.

"Fear me, love me, do as I say, and I will be your slave."

He was the Goblin King. She'd feared him before they even met. Fear would never be an issue, as dark, as old, as powerful as he was. Love him? She could do that, too. Even then, when she was still a naïve fifteen-year-old, she'd loved him, for his darkness as much as his light.

The sticking point, of course, was _do as I say_. She'd ever been defiant. Jareth would settle for nothing less than her complete and total submission, of that she was quite certain. She knew what _that_ meant. College had been an eye-opener, especially with a room-mate who had turned out to be both promiscuous and talkative.

It had taken Sarah those years to come to grips with what Jareth would want from her. Had wanted from her. She knew now what she had seen in his mismatched eyes all those years ago. A dark need, a lust, for _her_. A lust that she had slowly come to share, for him.

"Please," she whimpered, when once again her call went unanswered. " _Please_." She was back home for vacation on her birthday, visiting her folks. It was midnight and they were all asleep: she sat on the grassy lawn and looked at the clear night sky. Wishing for the rush of soft feathers. For _anything_ otherworldly. After her eighteenth birthday, the others had stopped coming: Hoggle had told her regretfully that it was forbidden, now she was an adult. But most of all, she wanted Jareth.

 _Twenty-five?_

Ten years. Ten years since the Labyrinth. This was her last hope. If he didn't come for her now… Sarah sighed and lowered her head into her hands. What exactly _was_ she going to do? She'd keep on keeping on, that's what she'd do. Carry on with her successful stage career. She was going to England next month, for a stint with the Royal Shakespeare Company. TV and film wasn't her thing – everything modern seemed too explicit, and for some reason casting directors couldn't bring themselves to put her in roles that would require any degree of physical intimacy with a co-star, and that was virtually all there was on the big screen these days.

She was going to be with the Royal Shakespeare Company. It was a huge break, especially for an American, but then she could mimic a British accent with perfection. She couldn't exactly say it was because she could always hear _his_ voice in her head. She told herself that it was because she was born to play Shakespeare's wonderful female roles, that this was what she'd always wanted.

Perhaps it was all she was ever going to have.

"You aren't coming, are you?" she said to the clear night sky. "You're never coming. I destroyed it all when I rejected you. If only you'd give me another chance – oh, Jareth. I never knew what I was throwing away."

Slowly, wearily, she got up and went inside, not noticing the light rain that began to fall as the door closed behind her.

He'd cried far too many tears in the last ten years. It should have seemed as the blink of an eye to one who had lived for thousands, but every day that had gone by without his rightful Queen by his side had seemed like an eternity. And yet again he wept for her, for his Sarah, almost begging him to come for her, never understanding that by her own actions, she had ensured he could not.

 _You have no power over me._

With those words, she had broken his hold on her. Surrounded herself with a protection even his magic could not breach. He had watched over her, of course. Hungered for her; his heart shattered anew every time she realised he wasn't coming for her.

She beat the Labyrinth and she rejected its King. He was _already_ her slave; the bargain he offered her was no bargain at all, really, just the desperate attempt of a man who had always been in control to try to keep some tiny amount of the power in their relationship for himself. She'd soon have realised that she had absolutely nothing to fear from him, that he would never have demanded her obedience. If only she could have loved him enough to stay, to let him kneel at her feet and worship her as she deserved…

Jareth sighed, looking at the crystal dancing across his agile fingertips. The crystal that showed him _his_ dreams. That for ten years had shown him only the nightmare of Sarah living her life in the human world, _without him_. A flash of something else made him blink for an instant, and he leaned closer. Another face. Familiar…

Of course! He'd forgotten the child!

"The child with the voodoo," he whispered. " _Toby_."

"Sarah?" Her brother's voice made her lift her head from Cordelia's speech that she was trying to learn, before she turned the light out and sought ever-more-elusive sleep.

"Hey, Tobes," she sat up in bed, peering at the twelve-year-old who stood uncertainly at the door. "You can come in. I'm decent." She smirked, teasing him, and he grinned and walked in, flopping down on her couch, all gangling arms and legs.

"Good! Hey," he looked uncertain again. "I – I've been meaning to ask you something."

"What?" She propped herself against the pillows comfortably. "Oh – God, it isn't the birds and the bees talk, is it? Because I really don't think I want to have that conversation with my little brother…"

"No!" he yelped, turning scarlet. "No, and please never ever bring that subject up again!"

"Never again," she promised, giggling, and after a moment he joined in.

"Cow!" He stopped laughing after a couple of minutes and started picking at a fraying patch on the knee of his jeans. "Sarah – I know this is your last day. That you're leaving for London tomorrow, and it might be a long time before I see you again. I need – I need to ask you something and you're the only person I know who might not think I'm crazy."

Oh, how well she knew that feeling. That not one single person in the world really understood her. She lived it, every day. "No matter what you want to say, Tobes, I promise I won't think you're crazy."

"Good," he stood up, paced over to the window and stood staring out, seemingly unable to face her. Worried, Sarah got out of bed and went over to stand by him. He was nearly as tall as she was, now.

"Toby?" she said gently when he didn't speak.

"I've been having dreams," he said eventually. "About these strange creatures, and this weird kind of maze, and this man who looks like a king, though he has no crown. He's tall, and blond-haired, and his eyes are two different colours..."

She sucked in a breath, and suddenly her legs wouldn't hold her up. She staggered to the couch and collapsed to sit, grabbing a cushion and hugging it to her.

"Sarah?" Toby turned to look at her, his blue eyes probing hers. "Thank God," he breathed, to her surprise, at the expression on her face. "You've been having the dreams too? Then I'm _not_ crazy…"

"I haven't had the dreams," Sarah held a hand up to stop him. "But you're not crazy, either. What – what did the man say?"

"He keeps telling me to give you a message. It doesn't make any sense, though."

"Tell me! You have to tell me!"

Toby frowned. "I have to say it exactly right. And he says I have to _mean_ it, that it's the only way you can be happy. But it sounds like a curse, not something that can make you happy!"

Sarah was almost hyperventilating. "You have to trust, Toby. Trust me, and trust him. Don't say it just yet – did he say anything else to you?"

"He said I was the only one with the power. That _he_ had no power over you because you'd stolen it, and I was the only one who could send you back."

"Oh, God," Sarah covered her eyes with her hands. " _I've been such an idiot_."

"Sarah, what's going on?" Toby's voice was quite small.

Toby liked to think he was grown-up. That he didn't believe in fairy-tales. But the dreams were so real, and, well, quite honestly they were _cool_. Way cooler than real life. He had so many friends there, in the Labyrinth. And not many here, because he was _different_ from everyone else, the same way he knew Sarah was different. Had known as long as he could remember.

Sarah got up and scrabbled under her bed for a minute, bringing out a cardboard box and unpacking several books before removing one bound in old red leather.

" _The Labyrinth_ ," Toby read the title, his eyes growing wide.

"Let me tell you about the night we went to the Labyrinth. And I need you to suspend your disbelief…"

It was almost midnight when Sarah finished. They were sitting on the couch, heads together, a comforter pulled over their laps and the book between them.

"So you loved him," Toby concluded, "but you left – for my sake. And ever since, you've been waiting for him to come for you?"

"It sounds so stupid," Sarah conceded, fighting back her tears. "But it was _real_ , Toby. I know you don't remember. It was all real, everything you see in your dreams, and he – Jareth…" the tears began to fall then, and Toby reached up and wiped at her cheeks with his fingers.

"Don't cry," he said gently. "Poor, poor Sarah." And then he got up, tossing the comforter aside, and went to the window, opening it wide. Turning back, he firmed his jaw and lifted his hand to point at her. "I wish," he said, making his voice strong, making himself _mean_ it because Sarah had suffered long enough, " _I wish the Goblin King would come and take you away right now!_ "

There was a rush of wings as the owl swooped past him, a deep, joyous laugh, and suddenly _he_ was there, pulling Sarah to her feet and enfolding her in his arms. She looked up at him, her eyes shining like stars, and their lips met in a long, tender kiss.

Embarrassed, Toby looked away. Into the eyes of the small, ugly creature climbing in over the windowsill.

"Hoggle!"

"Master Toby!"

"Must we leave him behind?" Sarah asked Jareth as he tugged her gently towards the open window.

He smiled down at her, no mockery in the look. "Toby is welcome in my kingdom whenever he wishes to visit. You beat the Labyrinth for his sake, after all. It is as much his as it is yours."

"He may not want to stay..."

"That will be his choice to make – just as it is yours, Sarah."

She reached up to touch his cheek, and he turned his face into her palm, eyes closing with bliss.

"Take me away, my Goblin King. Take me home to the Labyrinth."

"As my Queen desires," Jareth whispered, leaning down to kiss her again. "I am, after all, your slave."

Nothing happened for a long moment. Long enough to make Toby doubt he had _meant_ it enough, long enough for Sarah's shoulders to sag. And then there was a rush of wings at the window, Toby stumbled away in shock, and Sarah screamed and threw herself at the barn owl. In a blinding flash of light there was no longer an owl, but a tall, lean, inhumanly handsome man cradling her to him, pressing his face against her dark hair.

"Sarah-love," he murmured. He looked up at Toby, and it was no surprise to the boy that his eyes were two different colours, one a piercing blue and the other a deep brown. "Thank you, Toby. _Thank you_."

"You're welcome," Toby stammered. "Please – please take care of Sarah."

"I will. Always."

"Will I ever see her again?"

"Sooner than you think, child with the voodoo. She beat the Labyrinth for your sake, which means a part of it is forever yours. In your dreams, you'll always be able to come to us. And when the time is right, when you're older, you may come to us for always."

Toby nodded, and Jareth smiled at him. "Goodbye for now, Toby!" He looked down at Sarah, still clasped in his arms, and she lifted her face to him, smiling more radiantly than Toby had ever seen her. Jareth bent his head – _oh, ugh, they're gonna_ – but there was another flash of light, and when Toby blinked, not only had Sarah and Jareth vanished, but the packed suitcases that were awaiting Sarah's morning departure were gone, too, and her room was tidy, no sign that she had been in it lately. The only thing out of place was the book lying on the folded comforter on the couch. Toby picked it up slowly, turning it in his hands, looking around the room – and paused to close the window before leaving and closing the door quietly behind him.

Sarah woke slowly. Unwilling to open her eyes to the light beating against the closed lids, because once she did it would be time to get up and leave her childhood room, her childish dreams, for the last time. Her life would be in England now, and she had to leave for the airport shortly. No longer would she be able to sit here and dream of Jareth, always coming back here because she felt as though this was the only place she had even the slightest connection to him.

"Wake up, Sarah-love," a low, sensuous, amused voice murmured in her ear, and she stiffened, remembering all of a sudden that Toby had come to her room last night and they'd talked about the Labyrinth. Keeping her eyes closed, she said;

"If this is just another dream, I don't want to."

Warm lips grazed hers softly. "Does it feel like a dream, love?"

Her lips tingled, and she licked them, hearing a harsh intake of breath. "It could be?"

"Then let me reassure you that it's not." His lips returned to hers, and this time he wasn't gentle. It was a searing, deep kiss, his tongue hot in her mouth, his body pressing hard against hers. Sarah's eyes flew open, and it was real, HE was real, his wild blond hair silky against her cheek as he kissed her, his different eyes half-lidded with passion. He saw her looking at him and lifted his head, smirking.

"Convinced now?"


End file.
